


One Good Trick

by KingchooRS



Category: Cars (Pixar Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24004048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingchooRS/pseuds/KingchooRS
Summary: Tired of how everycar is making fun of him, Larry "Flip" Dover decides to start off the new season with a few new tricks.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	One Good Trick

**Author's Note:**

> This took ages to write and I'm still not 100% happy with this. Probably because I had to write filler, I hate writing filler. Anyways, hopefully you enjoy reading this.

The Piston Cup season had changed the moment Storm’s wheels touched the track and every sponsor followed in his tire-threads. The Stock Car gen had been cleared out to make way for the Next Gens. Among them was team Intersection, who replaced their racer for Next Gen, Larry Dover.

Larry made his debut race three races after Storm's at the Gears and Glory 450 in the 2016 season. This race is also where he had his first major crash halfway through. He was swiftly repaired and brought back into the race, before crashing again due to his previous damage not being repaired properly. He ended up finishing the race in 26th place.

Afterwards, he became the subject of teasing by the other more experienced racers within his own generation, earning him the nickname "Flip". Shortly after, one of these racers accidentally revealed the nickname to the press. The teasing grew after this and the nickname stuck throughout the entire season, annoying Larry even more. However, when it came to the off season between season 2016 and 2017, Larry's new nickname had given him an idea. At first, he decided to not use them until he was completely happy but as the season continued, so did the teasing. A few races in, he decided to put his plan into action

"Good evening sports fans and welcome back to the Piston Cup racing series. I'm Bob Cutlass, joined with me here is co-commentator, Darrel Cartrip. We are live for the sixth race of the season, here at the Virginia Speedway for the Speed Shifters 200 and I gotta tell you, things are heating up before the race can even start."

"Indeed they are Bob. We couldn't ask for a better day to start off the new season. The rivalry between Jackson Storm and Cruz Ramirez continues as Cruz has a total of three wins against Storm, who has two wins. Even in qualifying, they're still trying to one up each other.”

"You know, there’s no doubt in my mind that the two will be jostling for positions within the first few seconds of this race-"

While Bob and Darrel continued talking, down in the in-field, Larry and his crew chief, Tom, were inside the team tent. Larry had just been refueled and was getting his tires changed by his pitties, as he was relaxing before the big race. However, if you were to see Larry now, you wouldn't think he was very relaxed. 

“So, I'm all set?" The pitty who he was talking too nodded. "Tires are at the right pressure, fuel at the correct height?"

"Could you stop being so fussy for a second?” Laughed one of his pitties. “We've done this a hundred times, boss." One of his pitties replied.

"Yeah, everything is fine. Nothing to be nervous about, boss." Another pitty lowered Larry's right side carefully back down to the ground. 

Larry exhaled loudly. "Right, of course. Sorry."

"You'll do fine. They wouldn't be calling you Flip for nothing after this. Hell, I doubt they won’t even remember your first race.”

Larry suddenly froze, as he entered a small state of shock, remembering how he had hit the wall before getting side-swiped by Cal on lap 291 in the Gears and Glory 450. 

"Whoops, sorry boss." The pitty replied. 

Larry shook the thought away before looking at his team. “Look, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about crashing again but I want to at least try and prove I’m not some accident-prone racer. If I’m going to have this stupid nickname, I want it to mean greatness, not a hazard.”

It was clear to Tom, the team’s crew chief, that Larry wasn't entirely thinking clearly. "We know that kid. It's just, I want to make sure you're ready. We don't want to send you out there if you’re just going to crash again."

Flip exhaled slowly. "It's been almost a year since that happened, I'm a lot more experienced."

"Experience isn't measured by time, it's measured by how much you learn during that time." Tom replied wisely.

Larry rolled his eyes. "And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing during the off-season period. I've got it down, alright." He replied casually. "That top 10 spot is mine!"

Tom shook his front as Larry headed for the exit of the tent. Learning those tricks appeared to have made him quite conceited, and talking about his accident just annoyed. Tom could only hope that would help him focus during the race. 

Larry meanwhile, drove out of the tent, instantly was met by the heat from the sun. He stopped outside, listening to the faint chatter of the fans. During his off season, he had thought about this moment, and now it was here, he felt a mixture of pride and nervousness coursing through his system. 

But when he heard a familiar voice, this mixture was replaced with annoyance. He turned to face the source of the voice. His face frowned further.

“Sup Flip? Ready to put on a show for us?” The voice belonged to J.D. McPillar, Tow Cap’s racer, who found it funny to tease Larry about his first race. “How many flips are you going to do for your fans?”

"I would say save it for the winners' circle but what's the point?" A second voice added. Flip doesn't even need to look over. He knew the voice all too well, Nitroade's racer, Tim Treadless. He could see H.J. Hollis, N20 Cola's racer behind him.

"Yeah, why don't you come back to me when you actually win a race?" Larry snapped.

"So cross." Tim chuckled after tutting. "We just wanted to come over and make sure you're not going to break a chassis."

“And if you are going to crash out, do try and keep up with us though. It wouldn’t look good for team Intersection, now would it.”

At last, Larry lost patience. "You wouldn't be laughing if you crashed as bad as I did. You'd probably be crying for the factory that built you."

Flip’s engine roared loudly. "Temper, temper." J.D. tutted too. 

"Hey!" Tom had overheard everything and decided to stop the noise. "Get back to your pit, the pair of you. Unless you want to explain to your crews why you've been accused of harassment?" 

Tim, J.D. and H.J. subsided at the threat and rolled away, back to his tents. Once they were out of earshot, Larry’s engine revved furiously.

“Save it for the track.” Tom said wisely. “All that anger can be your motivation.”

Larry stared at Tom before nodding.

The crowds cheered loudly as the racers weaved back and forth behind the pace car. Larry was in row 14, alongside number 93. Larry looked at the crowds, he had forgotten how big the crowds could be during a race. He realized that there were a lot more eyes that he thought there would be on him. Which made him realize if he messes up...

“I know that look.” Tom’s voice came over the radio. Larry looked over at his pit box. “You better not be having second thoughts.”

“Of course not, well, not entirely…”

“So what is it then?”

“Nervousness.”

“The way I see it is, that’s very common, especially for you. Remember how shy you were when you first started racing?”

“You’d always threaten me with a baseball bat if I didn’t do things right.” Larry added with a laugh. He could hear Tom chuckle on the other end. Larry glanced ahead, seeing the pace car pull into the pits.

"You want your nickname to mean greatest, yes?"

"Well, of course I do."

"Then, what are you waiting for?"

Larry smirked as he stopped weaving and lined himself up in his row. "My cue." He replied as they passed the pit row window. 

The green flag waved high as the racers roared over the line and down the home straight. Flip surged forward, beating 54 to the line, before he pressed on the inside of 92 and the outside of 84. He locked in behind 11 as they headed into turn one. He looked to the position board on his left and saw H.J. was further up the board in fourteen place. Tim and J.D. were higher up the board.

“Oh, I'll do more than try and keep up, buddy." He muttered darkly. 

He drove out of turn one and onto the back straight, behind number 48 and number 121. The two cars were inches apart but were blocking the track in their small grudge match. Larry looked left, there was some room but not enough without going over the yellow line. He then looked right and there was not much room there either, until he realized something. The two racers had left a gap that was just large enough for Larry to wheelie down the outside. 

"Then what are you waiting for?" Tom's voice echoed in his mind.   
He took a deep breath and shot sharply to the right, until he was a few inches from the wall and was in number 121's slipstream. Once the slipstream brought him close enough, he turned to his right and launched his right wheels into the air. His tires mounted the wall and with the speed he built from the slipstream, he overtook them both. The two cars did a double take as Larry drove by. Once Larry was clear, he pushed his right tires off the wall, sending him closer to the line and his tires hit the ground, the sound of tires squealing echoed around the stadium.

"Whoa, where did Larry learn that?" Bob was quite speechless as his eyes were glued to Larry. “Are we sure Larry hasn’t swapped his racing numbers with another car?”

Larry took a second to compose himself after that. He couldn’t believe he had done that nor that it worked. Once he had, he looked ahead, the pack ahead spread out nicely.

‘Just like the cones.’ He thought as he drove alongside number 76. The number 76 racer glanced over at him before turning their attention back to the race. Larry drove quickly ahead, shot across to be in front of him and drove alongside number 34. Timing it perfectly, he slalomed down the back straight between numbers 34, 24, 21, 36 and 52 and then settled in behind number 48 for a bump draft. He exhaled loudly.

"Every second, a window opens." With enough speed from the slipstream, Larry shot to the right of 67. "But when you take too long, it closes." He pulled in behind the number 39 for slipstream. "And when one closes, another opens." His speed increased slightly and he shot to the left.

The pack drove down the home straight onto lap 16, his pit crew watched him go, moving up into a position.

"The boss is going well." One of his pitties commented. "But isn't a little early in the race to be attacking the other racers that hard?"

"You would if you were out there. There are so many factors of racing a racer must consider, and most of them could send you right back to the start." Tom countered. "One being the pit stops, they can ruin a racers' progress. And he knows that. That's one of the reasons why he wants to be up towards the top of the pack this early in the race, before he has to pit. Once he's up towards the top of the pack, he can take it easy. Better to be a few positions behind than a few minutes behind."

"Yeah, well he's in for a surprise when he comes in next."

Thankfully, he didn't need to pit so Larry could continue to impress the crowds, proving to be very agile as he made his way to the pack. Then lap 82 came around, Larry was in 25th position. No car really knows what exactly happened at the time but towards the top of the pack, there were loud squeals and smoke as number 123 skidded out of control, down the back on the exit of turn 2. He collided with 5's front right quarter-wing, who then hit number 24. This caused a chain reaction as numbers 15, 64, 117, 73, 80, 93 and 33 got caught in the crash. Larry was about to break and followed another racer down into the grass when he smirked to himself. He drove between the number 15 and number 64, getting out of the way as 117 came back down. He avoided hitting number 80 and 73. He braked and turned around, starting to reverse between number 94 and 33. 33 scrapped Larry’s side as he drove by. Larry waited until he was clear of the wreck before slamming on the brakes and sliding around. His rear wheels started turning again and he drove after the pack.

“Whoa, talk about a move.” Bob called. He drove in behind number 6 and 11 as they drove behind the pace car. "Larry Dover has skillfully managed to avoid a crash and has gone up another 8 positions."

"You know Bob, I haven't seen moves like that since Lightning McQueen's rookie days. About time some skills were brought back into the racing scene."

“So, how was that?” Larry asked his crew chief.

“Impressive but you still got a scratch.”

“It’s a new trick, it’s bound to have a few hiccups.”

“And you can iron out said details once we get a green flag.”

Larry chuckles quietly as he grinned on one side of his mouth. “Now you’re talking.”

The pace car took them around the track and on the second time around, pit row became open. Larry followed a small group of cars as he slipped in behind number 92, as they headed down pit row. Larry hadn't stopped for even a second and his pitties were already changing his tires.

"Wow, these guys have gotten faster." Larry was impressed by his team.

"Well, they're just making sure that the star of the show it's ready to start act three."

"Oh, I am." Larry replied, smirking confidently.

Tom chortled as Larry drove out of his box and behind Cruz. "Nicely done guys, you got him out behind Cruz. Keep this up and he'll make it into the top ten every race." Tom looked at the numbers on the position board, Larry was in 18th place. "He's in a good position towards the top too, he can rest a bit now after each of his attacks." He told the pitties. "

Eventually, the pace car went back into the pits, the green flag came out and the race continued on lap 87. 

"With his new found skills, Larry Dover is making steady progress as he speeds through the pack."

Larry straightened himself up as he drove down the back straight, gaining speed from number 52's slipstream. But instead of going to his sides, he jumped over him. He landed with a dull thud and immediately went into another racer's slipstream. 

"Are you sure you're not showing off?"

"Well it helps me get to the top."

The racers came around once more, Tom eyes glued on Larry.

“His confidence seems to be growing with every trick. It's actually helped him get over his nervousness.” He broke out of his thoughts and looked at the giant TV screen above turn one. There were still 111 laps still to go. “Let's just hope he doesn't overexert himself, he still has a long way to go."

Larry continued to prove to be the star of the show as the lap toiled away. Lap after lap, he rose through the pack, getting closer to the top. The fans shouting his name as he went by, cheering after each trick. But each pit stop halted his progress and even sent him back a few positions. But every time he rejoined the track, he got more confident, the comments that the other racers made, just made him go faster. However, halfway around lap 193, he saw one of the racers that had been teasing him, J.D. McPillar, ahead of two other racers. Larry smirked as he drove up behind one of the two to bump draft them. Once he got enough speed, he moved out of the slipstream and spun around to be driving backwards. He bounced his right side up and drove backwards between on two on two left wheels. Larry put his right wheels back on the asphalt once he was in front of them, both doing a double take as went by. Larry continued to drive backwards as he overtook JD. JD looked over, annoyed before his face morphed into utter confusion and looking over again.

"What?!" J.D. exclaimed. Larry could hear his crew laughing through his radio.

"So, how do you like me now?" Larry asked as cheekily. Before J.D. could reply, Larry turned around and drove between number 11 and number 90. J.D., annoyed by this, tried to follow him but the two racers in front of him moved into the racing line through the turn. J.D. got blocked and all he could was watch as Larry started to slip away.

"What has gotten into Larry today, it's like he's racing against tractors." Larry drove in behind Tim Treadless. Seeing Larry behind him and knowing what he was capable of, he was determined to not let Larry past. Larry moved to overtake but Tim shot to the right to block him, only for Larry to shoot to the left, drifting around him. Tim was shocked by this, where did that come from? Larry looked at him, winking and giving him a very cheeky grin. He straightened himself up and shot past, overtaking another racer in the process.

"Nothing personal, I'm just better." Larry called as he drifted past him. Tim didn't reply, he was still trying to understand what just happened.

"Whatever gotten into him, he continues to make really good progress as he overtakes another racer by drifting. Interesting tactic, but it seems to be working for him. And there goes another. And another. And another! Look at him go, he's an absolute powerhouse tonight!"

"And with five laps to go, Larry has made it into the top ten once more!"

Larry’s tires squealed as he straightened himself up, exhaling loudly. He was now in ninth place, racing down the back-straight. Ahead of him was, number 39 in 8th, number 84 in seventh, 64 in sixth, number 48 in fifth, Cruz and Storm were battling for third behind numbers 67 and 54 at the front.

“Ok, time for act three."

Larry picked up speed and shot past number 39, then slalomed past numbers 84 and 64, them pulled into behind numbers 64. He could feel his speed increase. Wasting no time with his sudden burst of speed, he moved out of his slipstream,shot past him and jumped over number 48 and Cruz. As Larry landed, he turned to quickly and started sliding up towards the wall. He found the grip at the last second and moved back down to the racing line. He managed to move back down before Cruz and number 48 could overtook him. 

"From the looks of it folks, Larry Dover wasn't happy with his fifth place. He's definitely going for a first place finish."

"Well he better keep going, he's got four more places to overtake and less than two laps remaining to make it happen."

Larry overtook Storm on the inside and shot in front of him to take the racing line. He came out of the bend and behind numbers 67 and 54. But immediately noticed a problem, both racers were having their own grudge match. 

"Uh oh, looks like Larry's progress has been halted. Let's hope he's got a trick in his wheel-well to get past this."

Because both cars were constantly moving to try and take the lead from each other, it was too risky for anycar to overtake, especially since racers had very unpredictable movements when battling for a positions. Larry thought about playing it safe and try drifting around them in the corners, but he didn't know if that really was the safest option. Because most battles were won and lost in the corners because of the racing line, racers fought hard to be the first to get into that line. This would lead to crashes that took a small chunk of the pack with them. 

"He better think of something quick, we're almost on the final lap."

Larry sighed, realizing that nowhere on the track was safe. So, there was only once thing to do. Waiting for his moment, he launched his two right tires up into the air as he slipped through the gap between number 67 and number 54. Nobody said a word, everycar held their breaths. The racers on his sides had to do a double take as Flip came wheeling past. Once he passed them, Larry put weight on his right side, bringing the two tires back down to the ground. The sound of tires squealing filled the stadium as Larry took the lead.

"I can't believe what I just saw! Did Larry Dover really just get away with that?!"

“Wait a go, kid! You’re now in the lead!”

Pride and determination coursed through his system as he drove over the line, the white flag waving high above him. He had done it.

"We are now onto the final lap, folks."

The sound of cheers filled the stadium as Larry left the first bend and onto the back straight. 

"Ha, ha. Larry, you magnificent racer. Now, bring it home!"

Larry drove out of turn two and onto the home straight. The crowd was cheering, he could see his pitties already celebrating, Larry felt pride and accomplishment. Then, he realized his pitties were not in fact cheering, but seemed to be telling him to get a move on. And that was when Jackson Storm thundered past. Larry couldn't believe it, his first place was gone. Larry regained his focus and shot to the left before number 84 could pass him. 

"Whoa! It's Jackson Storm who takes the win here tonight. J.D. McPillar comes second and Cruz Ramirez in third. Tim Treadless takes fourth away from Barry DePedal. Looks like he'll have to settle for fifth."

"Better luck next time Flipper!" J.D. called.

Larry crossed the line in sixth, looking dazed and confused. He looked down at his hood in disappointment.

"Well, at least you got your top 10 goal." Tom added over the radio, laughing awkwardly. Larry looked over at him, giving him a weak smile as he passed his pit box. He then looked away, sighing sadly. 

Tom sighed heavily as he watched Larry roll by. "Poor kid…”

The race was over, Jackson Storm was once again celebrating on the podium, Cruz and J.D. would be joining him in a while. J.D. had just done an interview and the reporter was heading off to find another racer to interview. When they drove out of the way, he could see Larry talking with his crew and a black BMW 320i close by.

"In any case," the black 320i, who was current owner of Intersection, Mister Donald Howitzer, was wrapping up his conversation. "I've got a meeting to attain. Pleased to see you're finally gotten over the whole nickname. But please, remember to not overexert yourself while training. A racer is allowed to have fun."

"Of course, thank you sir." Larry replied, lower his front slightly as if he was bowing.

"Have a good day." Mr Howitzer called as he drove off as another BMW, his assistant, pulled up alongside. 

Larry watched him go, a wave of sadness came over him. "Hey Flip," He turned around and saw Blinkr's racer, Ryan Laney pulling up alongside. "You were amazing out there."

"I'll say." Agreed Leak Less' racer, George New-win. He bumped his front left tire off Larry's side. "That's one way to start a new season." 

"You know, a lot of cars say that you racers rely on too much technology when training,” came a voice. Flip looked over and saw Triple Dent Gum’s racer Cam Spinner and Lit' Torquey Pistons' racer Spikey Fillups cruising up to him. “you just prove them wrong."

“That was quite a show you put on out there.” Spikey nodded as he pulled up alongside Cam. "Where did you learn to do that?" He asked.

"Watched performers do them and tried to replicate them." Larry shrugged honestly. “The likes of Raoul CaRoule, McQueen and the Fabulous Hudson Hornet.”

Spikey and George looked at each other and nodded thoughtfully.

“And you’ve certainly achieved that. I honestly would have thought you had a second career as a circus performer.”

“I’d say.” Ryan nodded in agreement, slapping his tire of Larry. "Your skills are wasted here, my friend."

"Or maybe his skills are just what this racing scene needs…" The group looked over, Ryan turned around out of the way, as H.J. Hollis, J.D. McPillar and Tim Treadless cruised up.

An uncomfortable silence kicked in as no car said a word. Larry glanced at each of them, slightly confused on what H.J. had said. At last, Tim spoke.

"That was quite a show you put on. We just came by to congratulate you, and to apologize. We didn't mean for the nickname to grow the way it did. Thanks for that J.D." J.D. stared at Tim, before glaring away in annoyance.

He continued to look away for a few seconds before looking back at Larry. "Yeah, sorry for me and my big mouth."

Now it was H.J. to speak. "Yeah, on the subject of that nickname, I'm sorry too." H.J. had been the one to call Larry, Flip, during an interview.

Larry blinked for a moment. "Um, it's ok. Actually, to be honest, I'm kinda glad you guys called me that. A lot of fans say, besides Storm and Cruz, we're bland racers. Background characters if you will. But this nickname made me realize who I am, what I'm capable of. So thanks for that."

Tim smiled slightly at this, J.D. and H.J. just stared at him. "Um, no worries." 

J.D. cleared his throat. "I er, got to go to the podium. I'll er, see you around."

"Yeah, yeah. See ya around." The three Next Gens nodded and drove their own separate ways.

"What was that all about?" Tom asked as he pulled up alongside.

"I think they finally understand the concept of being respectful." Larry replied, part of his top eyelid was raised.

“Right.” Spikey said, breaking through Tom and Larry’s conversation. “I’ve got to go, keep up the great work Larry.”

“I’ve got to go too.” Cam added, following Spikey. “Later Larry.”

Larry said goodbye to the others but as they left, he realized something. The Next Gens were the ones who teased him the most, but today, they had changed their entire demeanor. This never crossed his mind that the Next Gens would change their attitude if there wasn't anything to joke about. Maybe, he thought, they really were sorry.

As the group separated, J.D. was making his way over to the podium when he heard a voice behind him.

"Oh my god, there here is!" Called a large sedan. 

J.D. turned around as he watched as a fan drove towards H.J.. H.J. smirked confidently as the fan got closer. “Yes, it is I. H.J. Hol-” He stopped smiling when he noticed the fan wasn’t even looking at him. He was even more confused when he saw him driving past him. He turned around and saw that the fan was driving towards Larry.

"Flip Dover!" Larry looked up. "I'm your biggest fan, man. Can I have your thread-mark?"

He looked over at his crew chief, only to be given a shrug in response. "Um, sure." Larry rolled his tire against his side, leaving a large thick black line.

"Wow, I'll never wash this wheel arch again." The fan proclaimed as he drove away.

Larry, looking confused, looked over at Tom, who was trying not to laugh. “Seems the fans have a new favorite.”

Larry stared at Tom before he realized who he was talking about. “Wait, me? But...I didn't win."

Tom laughed. "You mean to tell me that when you were busy training, it never crossed your mind on how the fans and the other racers would react?” The answer came in the form of silence. “When it comes to choosing a favorite, the fans want to pick somecar they can look up to, somecar whose not you're average racer. You’ve shown that today. You didn’t win, true, but that’s not what they look for. The race officials can choose the official winner of a race but it's the fans who know the real winner. Just like this kid-car."

Flip was about to ask but was beaten to the punch. "Excuse me, Mister Dover." Larry looked over as a female SUV and a small coupé drove up to him. "My son wants to know if he can have a picture with you?"

Larry blinked confused before smiling. Now he understood. "Of course."

Larry drove up alongside the kid-car and his mother held the camera steady. Larry then realized he was smiling without even trying. The camera flashed and the mother nodded for them to move.

As soon as they could, the kid-car hugged Larry. "You're the greatest!" Larry smiled unintentionally again and wrapped a tire around the kid-car.

His mother smiled warmly at the scene in front of her, before deciding to intervene. "Ok Geoffrey, Mister Dover needs his rest.” Geoffrey, the kid-car, slowly pushed himself off Larry and reversed back to his mother, not taking his eyes off him. “Thanks again Mister Dover."

"It's…no problem Ma'am." Larry replied softly.

She turned to Geoffrey. “And what do you say to Mister Dover?”

“Thank you.” He said, almost bursting with excitement.

Larry nodded back.

"Come along Geoffrey dear. Let's go find your father." Larry watched the pair go and turned around to talk to Tom.

He stopped when he heard Geoffrey speak up. "Mommy, do you think I can be as great as him someday?"

"Oh I don’t know. I think you’re great enough as it is.”

“Mom.”

Larry smirked, but then his face fell when he heard what the kid had said. He thought Larry was great, not Storm, not Cruz, not H.J., him. He wondered how many fans felt the same way. He then wondered how many fans he actually had, how many he’ll gain in future races. All because of some nickname that started among the other racers. It was this nickname that helped him stick out from the others. He couldn’t believe he was going to suggest this to Tom but...

“If I’m going to be this amazing racer everycar thinks I am, I think it’s time for a change.” he looked up at Tom and his crew. They all nodded thoughtfully, they were thinking the exact same thing.

Seven days later…

“Welcome ladies and gents, to the second race of the Piston Cup season. I’m your host Bob Cutlass, here with co-host Darrell Cartrip, going live at the Tailgator Speedway, for the Dust-maker 350. This will surely be another great race. The fans are piling in, the racers are refueled, the crews are ready, I’d say it is time to begin.”

“Well, not exactly Bob. Before all of that, we have to check in with Sharon Spokes down on the infield. It seems that team Intersection is about to make an announcement. What’s going on down there Sharon?”

Sharon was outside the Intersection tent, Tom and Mister Howitzer, with the team logo on his hood, were idled alongside her out of shot. There were two pitties behind Tom, each one holding a curtain, ready to pull it back.

“Well Darrell, it's regarding the team racer. I’m here with team Intersection’s boss, Mister Donald Howitzer, and the team’s pit crew, Tom Dover. Mister Howitzer, tell us what’s happening?”

“I’d rather wait for-”

As they continued talking, Larry was directly behind the curtains inside the tent, waiting for them to be pulled. Inside the tent with him was the rest of his team. An awkward silence had kicked in after Larry had explained everything. Larry continued to watch the curtains of the tent.

One pitty pulled a face. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, this is your name we’re talking about.” Added another, raising part of his top eyelid.

"I wish I had a name." Sighed a pitty from somewhere in the darkness.

“I’m sure.” Came a reply. “It may not be a real name but I wouldn't be the racer I am today without it.” He glanced around the tent, his eyes darting to each pitty around him. “It may have been a name to mock me, but not anymore. I like to think of it as an extension of what I’m capable of.” He looked up, his top eyelid bending in the middle. “From now on, my name is Flip Dover. I may look like your average Next Gen, but I’m not when the lights go green and the Piston Cup has my name on it. When that happens, my true colors show.”

“And now, the moment, you’ve been waiting for…” Tom’s voice called from outside.

“Well in that case, go get ‘em Flip.” They all called as the curtains pulled back, the sun starting to shine in. Flip swallowed hard as he started to drive out, revving his engine loudly as he headed for the exit. He looked at the two pitties who were holding the curtains. They didn't say anything, but just smiled at him. 

He casually cruised up alongside Tom. “Give it up for, number 00 Flip Dover.”

Flip smiled as he heard loud cheering from the crowds, his boss and crew smiling proudly at him. He stopped in front of his crew and boss, pride and confidence coursing through his system. He revved his engine, making the crowds cheer louder. He couldn't wait to start his first race as Flip Dover.


End file.
